


The Moments We Meet

by Lazydesk



Series: Bathed in Flame and Ice [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Smol idiot in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazydesk/pseuds/Lazydesk
Summary: Otabek knew a number of things about Yuri Plisetski. How he liked his coffee, what his favorite time of day was, and the type of liquor he enjoyed. But in that moment he learned more about Yuri than he had in four years of being by his side.





	

     The things that Otabek knew about Yuri Plisetski were rather boring if he took time to really think about it. His favorite day of the week was Thursday. Yuri liked the color vermillion because it sat somewhere between red and orange. The coffee he drank had to be black and unreasonably strong. The liquor he consumed was always on the borderline of poisonously potent. There were a million things he could list that were more interesting. When Yuri spoke in English, the words flowed easily although heavily accented; the complete mastery of the language Yuri possessed was baffling. The point when the moon was just rising in the sky was his favorite time because it cast shadows that sent people skittering back to their homes, leaving the streets quiet. Yuri was insecure about his lithe form and kept his posture too straight in order to look taller. All of those little things were charming and unique. They were what made him fall head over heels for Yuri over a series of years that felt like they breezed by far too fast.

     It was summer time in Russia, Otabek had been training with Yakov for a single season. Instead of returning home to Almaty, he had decided to remain in Russia and spend the summer with Yuri. At nineteen, he was still foul mouthed and prickly but decidedly calmer. Over the past few years the long blond hair had grown into a mane that curled into soft waves at the ends. Standing over six feet tall, Otabek now had to look up to talk to him. The months when Yuri had been growing were agonizing for everyone. The young man didn’t sleep well and his joints constantly hurt, which meant that everyone suffered along with him. With long gangly limbs, all the grace of youth had gone out the window. It had been equal part hilarious and cringeworthy to watch Yuri skate, it was clear his body had not caught up with his mind. The pain had spurred him to simply train harder, force his rebellious body to become graceful again. Otabek had been there for all of it, even if he was standing just off to the side. Things were different now, they were living together.

     Catcher in the Rye was the book Otabek was rereading for the fifth time when Yuri crawled into the living room looking utterly exhausted. Unceremoniously the blond flopped onto the couch and settled between Otabek’s legs. Fresh from the shower, Yuri smelled of honey and jasmine. Underneath that, far more subtle was that of the menthol rub Otabek used when his muscles ached.

     “I think I’m growing again,” Yuri grumbled and stretched his arms out. Without pretext or warning, he leaned forward and ducked under the book to lie on Otabek’s chest. Although he was considerably smaller that Yuri, the younger man always insisted on lying atop him. On rare occasions he would drift off into peaceful slumber. All the harsh lines of an almost perpetual scowl would slip away and in its stead would be a gentler expression. Closing the book, he settled his hands on Yuri’s shoulder.

     “If you grow anymore you’ll need a new bed.” During the night Yuri had a habit of scooting down the bed, calloused feet dropping off the edge. Honestly it wasn’t too far of a jump, apparently both of Yuri’s parents had been exceptionally tall. Victor had honestly been mystified the last time he had seen Yuri and Otabek. The skating legend was used to being the tallest or one of the tallest in the room. Instead Yuri had to look down to meet his mentor’s gaze. It had made Otabek smile at the absurdity.

     After a few quiet minutes, Yuri slowly lulled into a slumber. Hot breath fanned out across Otabek’s neck and he blushed at the feeling. The intimacy between them was platonic but intense. Every touch and word was stored away to be protected. In four years they had developed a language that only they knew how to speak. Many suspected their relationship went beyond just friends. Otabek had been Yuri’s first kiss. Only a month before, he had come home to an amazingly drunk Yuri. The young man had wanted attention which Otabek readily gave; hours went by and they talked about everything and nothing. The kiss had been unexpected and painfully tender. A simple brush of the lips as if Yuri had just wanted to confirm or cement something. Otabek had gently place a hand on Yuri’s neck and returned the kiss as if to say that everything was alright. That kiss had been Yuri’s way of saying a number of things; most importantly he was asking permission to love Otabek, even if Yuri wasn’t quite ready to talk about it himself. In return Otabek’s response had been of course.

     They danced around it in conversation, but it was there. It was in the subtle way Yuri looked at him or the way he grazed his fingertips against Otabek’s back. It was hesitant and unsure. Rage filled, vicious Yuri had resigned himself to admiring Otabek from afar. That was alright. Otabek was good at waiting.

     “Yuri,” Otabek said softly when his arm finally fell asleep. The blond grunted and clung a bit harder to his chest. An upturned nose pressed into Otabek’s neck and slightly parted lips caressed his skin. “Yuri, go to bed.” He ordered the young man up right. Blinking, Yuri sat up and swiped a curtain of hair out of his eyes. With guiding hands he steered Yuri towards his bedroom. Years of spending time with Yuri had taught him to leave the covers off his body until he was settled. Just as he was starting to leave Yuri made an uncertain noise  in the back of his throat. Yuri only had trouble with words if they were associated with feelings.

     “Stay with me? I just don’t want to be alone,” The question was mumbled out. Without a word Otabek slid off his shirt and slid into bed beside Yuri. Slinging an arm over the lithe body beside him, Otabek didn’t pull him closer just let Yuri know he was there. A little sigh of contentment left Yuri’s lips and he snuggled back against Otabek’s chest. Honestly Otabek had never felt more calm in his entire life.

     A few hours later Otabek stirred to the sensation of someone running their fingertips down his bicep. Sleep wanted to take him but he was curious. Yuri was always bold but in this there was timid innocence and curious exploration. So Otabek kept his breath even and let the younger man touch him. The fingers traced the lines of muscles and then glanced over Otabek’s chin before withdrawing completely. A soft sigh left Yuri’s mouth and the fingertips were replaced with a kiss to his forehead. Like all their moments before, it was intimate and a little terrifying for both parties. It was also unbelievably good and pure. The bed rustled and Yuri was back in his arms. There was a temptation for more, but Otabek let things be. Everything would happen on Yuri’s time not his, because Otabek Altin had loved Yuri Plisetski for years. A little while longer wasn’t going to hurt anything.

     The sound of birds cawing outside the window eased Otabek out of sleep. With great and careful effort he managed to excise himself from Yuri’s entanglement of limbs. For a moment Otabek allowed himself the luxury of admiring the young man; with full lashes against pale cheeks and blond hair sprawled across the black sheets, Yuri looked ethereal.  Padding to the kitchen, he set to brewing a pot of coffee, strong and dark. An hour later Yuri walked into the kitchen, eyes heavy with sleep. Mornings had never been something Yuri enjoyed. Half the day could go by before he was even awake. In contrast to Yuri, the early morning was Otabek’s favorite time of day. When the golden light poured through open windows, it made everything around him seem surreal. Elegant hands outstretched and Otabek placed a cup of coffee in them.

     Something was off though; it hung in the air with an uncomfortable weight. Whatever was bothering Yuri was finally coming to a head. For a while he seemed content to mull his thoughts over in his mind. Then in a single moment things changed between them.

     “Beka,” Yuri spoke softly and paused, “I love you.” They had said this to one another so many times over the years but this was different. With a glance he leveled his gaze with Yuri’s.

     “I know,” He replied to the younger man and kept his tone as even as possible. Yuri sputtered and set down his mug with a jarring motion. The look on his face screamed panic and fear of rejection. In their silent language, Otabek lightly tugged on the bottom of Yuri’s hair. The gesture was playful and reassuring. A familiar habit from the beginning of their relationship.

     “You know!” Yuri was fidgeting in his spot on the couch. Shrugging, Otabek rubbed soothing circles into the curve of Yuri’s spine. Slowly but surely he relaxed into the touch. All the hardness and rigidity in his posture slipped away and he leaned into Otabek’s palm. “You’re not mad?” After all this time Yuri was still so unsure and unsteady. Put the young man on the ice and he oozed confidence, ask him to express himself and you’d be met with barred teeth and volatile resistance.

     “I have loved you for years Yuri Plisetski. The ways in which I love you may have changed. It has never been cut and dry, more of a mess of feelings.” Otabek stroked Yuri’s cheek with his thumb, “But every day that I spend with you makes those feelings worth it.” Slowly Yuri crawled into his lap, situating himself comfortably. The index finger of Yuri’s finger traced Otabek’s lips. Can I kiss you, the action asked.

     No more words needed to be said because Otabek knew a number of things about Yuri Plisetski. How he liked his coffee, what his favorite time of day was, and the type of liquor he enjoyed. Most importantly he knew actions were what captured and moved Yuri. This time when they kissed, Otabek made sure to make his feelings clear. The kiss was slow and in that moment he learned more about Yuri than he had in four years of being by his side. The fingers in Otabek’s hair pulled asking for more. The soft shuddering gasps were calming reassurances. The drag of teeth against his lower lip were a playful invitation. Otabek had spent years by Yuri’s side and was now meeting him as an equal. This moment had been worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Yuri is my such a wonderful character that I enjoy writing so much. I think that underneath that bratty, ridiculously inappropriate exterior he just wants love and acceptance.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated; I love hearing from all of you.   
> -Avery


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